


The creation of a legend

by RoyalB



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dragons, F/F, F/M, Fear of loss, Love, Magic, Realistic, Sex, Swords, Valyria
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:55:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26600260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoyalB/pseuds/RoyalB
Summary: ValyriaIt is 124 BC Valyria is the largest city-state-empire in the hole of the Essos, the large eastern landmass of the insignificant western lands, called Westeros. Only a few cities could rival the size of Valyria. Meereen, Yunkai, and Astapor. Yet, only Valyria was the leading power in Essos. Only a military alliance of those cities, famous for their giant slave armies could ensure peace on this continent, because the Valyrian the power, to be the master of the whole of Essos. Why? For one, there was their proficiency in working metals, this led to the creation of Valyrian steal, better in any form, than the steels used by the other nations.Then, there were the mages, a group of people, with natural connection to the foundation of the world. This connection was strengthened by dragons. The thing, that made Valyria to the greatest power of Essos.And so, Essos had peace. The four cities had their territory and only fought for slaves, otherwise they got sold and used, mostly in personal use, but also in fighting pits, construction sites and brothels.In this time, ruled by the ones owning, a girl, not even owning herself was born, but something was off.





	1. Valyria

Valyria  
Slavery has always been a momentous part of the rise of a city. Be it Meereen, Yunkai and Astapor using slaves to grow and get rich, beyond conception. Or Bravos, which rose to power as an opposite to slavery, giving shelter to fleeing slaves and giving them freedom. But the rise of this city didn’t happen for a long time. It is 124 BC (before Aegon’s conquest); Valyria is the largest city-state-empire in the hole of the Essos, the large eastern landmass of the insignificant western lands, called Westeros. Only a few cities could rival the size of Valyria. Meereen, Yunkai, and Astapor. Yet, only Valyria was the leading power in Essos. Only a military alliance of those cities, famous for their giant slave armies could ensure peace on this continent, because the Valyrian the power, to be the master of the whole of Essos. Why? For one, there was their proficiency in working metals, this led to the creation of Valyrian steal, better in any form, than the steels used by the other nations. It was rare and the most expensive thing a person could own.  
Then, there were the mages, a group of people, with natural connection to the foundation of the world. This connection was strengthened by dragons. The thing, that made Valyria to the greatest power of Essos.  
And so, Essos had peace. The four cities had their territory and only fought for slaves, otherwise they got sold and used, mostly in personal use, but also in fighting pits, construction sites and brothels.  
In this time, ruled by the ones owning, a girl, not even owning herself was born, but something was off.  
The girl stayed silent. No crying. “Hit her!” the doctor ordered the mother, as the mother started crying, fearing for the live of her newborn.  
A loud sounding slap shook the room, as the doctor took it upon himself.  
The girl opened her eyes, pierced the doctor with a look of death, with her purple, blueish eyes and started crying.  
“It can’t be!” The doctor gasped, “Her eyes!” he shook his head, “Who is her father?!”, directed at the owner.  
“I don’t know. How is this important? She’s mine, and the kid ‘s mine. Whatever you think of doing, let it be. Only useless quarrel.”  
The doctor nodded, “If you say so, Sir.”


	2. Owner and Owned

Many years later  
In a shady tavern, an auction is held; Illegal slaves, put up for sale.  
A thin girl, around six years old, a hood covering her hair and face.  
“What’s illegal bout her?” a man asked, walking by, being intrigued by the strange purple glow, coming from bellow the hood.  
“She’s n Tagarien bastard.” The owner said proudly.  
The man shook his head, “No way, you’d get your head cut of, if that’s true!” he checked his purse, “I want prove!”  
The owner nodded, “I’ll show you shortly, but if you don’t want to buy, you wont leave with your eyes intact!”, the owner laid a thin blade openly on the table.  
The buyer nodded, “I’ll buy, if she’s a virgin… and… after the… transaction, I want a room, this-” he put his filled purse on the table, “Should be enough for an Ash, now, show!” (Ash: Bastard Kid, of a Tagarien man and a simple woman, name comes from their often ashen grey to white hair)  
The owner nodded, as he weight the purse in his hand. He softly, almost lovingly pulled the hood of the girl’s head. White hair, purple eyes, slender figure and an angry hiss, following with a bite at the buyer’s hand, who tried to touch the almost glowing hair.  
“Oh, she’s a feisty one, a beauty none the less, not conditioned jet?” he asked, as he took a thick leather glove out of a pocket, “See this glove girl? There are stones imbedded into the knuckles, you try to bite me again, I will hit you with it. Understood you little baifa?” (Baifa: White haired demon of a Valyrian tale, biting its victims with its fangs to death. In some tales famed for her beauty in others described as a man hunting only other man.) she nodded hesitantly, wondering how far she could push it.  
“Let’s hear that voice though! I don’t care, if ‘ts a moan or a scream—”  
“Not here idiot! Take your room and do it there!” and now silent, “you diverged soul…”  
The front door opened. A large man in shining armor entered the room, panic erupted, a scream announced, what everybody knew, “DRAGON-RIDERS!!!”  
Two men at the door pulled their weapons, but got cut down, in one motion, by the man in steel. Alone, he cut down peasant and nobleman alike. With simple and swift movements, he cut his way through.  
A blade got stuck inside the buyer’s throat, the hood hastily put up again and the girl pulled away, through a hidden entrance.  
“Who was that?” asked the girl in awe, as the owner pulled her through the streets.  
“A dragon-rider.” The owner said, trying to calm himself,  
“a dragonrider…” she repeated, “He was amazing!”, the girl gasped,  
“They are, especially, when they don’t want your head…” the owner said, moping.  
“Do you have the money?” the girl asked, happily hopping around.  
“Why would you care?” he asked astounded.  
“If you had it, you wouldn’t need to sell me!” the girl gloated.  
“I guess…”  
“What would you do, if you had the money?” the girl asked, poking in the fresh wound.  
“I don’t know, probably buy a new slave…” the girl looked at him judgingly.  
“You don’t need another!”, playing with something in her hands, throwing it into the air and catching it again. It seemed heavy and it made metallic sounds, as the girl caught it again and again.  
“You didn’t!” the owner lost his composure. “You really? – No! You know it’s wrong to steal!”  
“You killed him, so you have no place to judge! And he won’t need it no more… And I didn’t like him.” She grinned at him.  
“That’s… valid.” He remembered the chills he got, while the guy was talking, it was a pleasure to never hear this voice again. Getting rich and doing something good for the city, maybe he was a valuable member of this society, not like his mother wanted him to be, but in his own way. It was a bit twisted, but his hart was in the right spot.  
“Hey! Master, why am I illegal?” the girl asked, “And who are the Tagarien?”  
“Hm… The Tagarien are a type of people, which no longer live here, you may well be one of the last. I don’t know, if they survived outside the city…” he stopped, wondering if he should tell her. She was the reason this day was a huge success. He still had the goods and the money. He always tried to rase her well, as when her mother died, she asked him to take care of her, but he held his promise for now 5 years. He lost his marriage of it, as he could never tell her, why he had spent this much time with another woman’s child. She could never know, who this walking bag pf gold was. He was hesitant to do it this early, but always told himself, it won’t get easier. But now? What to do… he was rich, but probably searched for…  
“Master!” the girl wasn’t done asking questions  
“Hm?” he asked, still in thoughts, what to do.  
“Am I unwanted?” she asked, as if this question was the most normal thing to ask.  
He tilted his head, “Sherine, dear, you are as noble as your name suggests.” -quite literally- “You are always wanted, never let anybody tell you otherwise! What ever your ancestors did, to not live in the city anymore, they probably deserved it, but you have no fault in it.”  
“Because I’m a bastard? Only half fault.” She nodded, acceptingly.  
He shook his head, the mind of a child…  
“I have thought about, what I would want, but what do you want?” he asked the girl, as he had no idea, what he wanted to do .  
She looked at him with big eyes, “Everything?”  
“Almost everything.” He said smiling, as a dragon flew past them.  
“So… if you had said everything, I would have said a dragon…”  
He interrupted her, “That’s why I said almost!”  
“I heard that!” she said, like he insulted her, “I want a sword! Like the dragonrider had!”  
“That is…” he thought for a moment, he could buy twenty swords of the highest quality with that money. “… possible.” He said and put a smile on her lips.  
He was not allowed to wear a sword, after the incident with her mother, but why couldn’t she, he always felt safer with a sword at his side, let her have her fun. She will grow fast enough into the grim world of Valyria.


	3. Tales of downstairs

They walked home. As he turned the key of the front door, he expected more. It was cold and no light was lit.   
“Cathin!” he yelled with a sore throat. “Where are you?”, the slave didn’t answer. It was too late for her to not be home… -Did anything happen to her? Probably not, she just took her day off.- He wanted her to tell him, when she did it, but he couldn’t blame her, they were away for the whole day, and if she found somebody to spend the night with, he wasn’t the kind of person who would deny that.   
He told Sherine to wait in the entrance. Went downstairs and got his old sword. He had not touched it for five years. He held it like a baby in his hands. He had missed the weight of the blade on his hip, walking through the streets. It gave respect, without anyone knowing who you were. It was decorated with many expensive stones, gold and carvings. His father in law gave it to him, for their marriage, he never wanted it back, even after he wasn’t allowed to wear it anymore. He liked him more that he liked his own daughter. A strange man, when he died, he got everything. His wife nothing, his daughter nothing. He gave is mother in law a comfortable life till she died, servants helping her, more luxury that he would ever grant for himself. His wife didn’t accept his gracious presents, she left the city and shortly after she was found dead, murdered by bandits, robbed and raped. Strangely he was not sad, when he heard the news. It was a relive. She was no good woman. She hit the slaves, for no apparent reason, was cruel and mean… His father made the match. It wasn’t his decision… He was glad, that his parents died long before this happened. They would have disowned him for what he did.   
Sherine gasped, when she saw only the hilt of the blade. “Can I?” she asked, as her little hands had already found grip around the heft. He lowered it, to help her take it out of the sheathing.   
“Careful, it is heavy.” He said, as the little girl started dancing around him, swinging the blade with speeds, he never saw it move. “You are a natural!” He laughed. He helped her, told her the little things he knew of the art, he never understood.   
As Sherine got tired from whirling around with the blade, she sat down, polishing the blade with her crude dress. “Why are you not wearing the blade? It feels great! I can feel the power behind it. The danger, the fear, the respect emitting from it! I can feel it!”  
-The girl was reading too much, no kid this age would ever talk like that…-  
“I believe you are old enough.” He said with a sigh. “Your mother and I were going to buy things at the market, outside of the city, where they sell alcohol and other things, that are too expensive for the little markets inside. We walked through the smaller sideways, to north gate. There stood a man, I remember quite well, who he was. He looked like a sailor, or maybe even a pirate—”   
“How does a pirate look?” Sherine interrupted him.  
“Shabby, worn down clothes and dirty.” He said, without thinking. “Anyway, he stood in our way and said: “I want her!” I told him to get lost, and that your mother was not for sale. He insisted, he wanted her for…” He didn’t want to say, the word out loud, it disgusted him too much. “Well, he wanted her, he didn’t want to let us past. So, your mother, told me, to let her handle it, as she approached him, said something, he rammed a small blade into her womb. As she fell, I drew this sword and cut the scum’s head off. I had luck, that nobody was there to see, what happened.”   
Sherine shook her head, “But why? You were in the right!”  
He smiled shortly, “If that was only true… Normally it is not proportionate to kill a free man, over a slave woman. I told the soldiers, who investigated, that he posed a threat to me and I took it upon me to defend myself, as my rights as a citizen provides me. There was a short trial, and as nobody accused me, I only got a warning, but as a citizen with a criminal record, I was no longer allowed to wear a blade longer than one hand outside of the house. Since then, I’m taking care of you. This happened…” he remembered for a second. “a long time ago. You were only a baby then. Close to two years old.” He looked down for a bit, as Sherine was still inspecting the sword. Turning the weapon in her small hands, knowing exactly where to touch and where not to.   
“Let’s get to bed, little one.” He said, as he took the sword out of her hands and sheeted it and put it on a chest.  
“Ok…” she said, as she put the purse of the dead buyer on the chest, next to the sword.


End file.
